The Fierce Unknown
by Neveah101
Summary: A strange young woman, not magic, not Muggle, is discovered in the depths of a Deatheater lair. Though as an outsider she is scourned, when thrown into the past it appears she may have been underestimated. SBOC, JPLily, mauraders
1. Chapter 1: Solitude

_Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters, storylines, etc. belong to JK Rowling, Iown absoloutely nothing, all rights go to JK Rowling, or her publisheers or someone, not me, so please don't sue._

_I'm thinking that this story takes place during the fifth book..well, i guess it has to, because Sirius is still alive. But from there, I don't know if it will exactly follow all the events the real books entail, so bear with me, i suppose..._

**Chapter One: Solitude**

"Thank the Gods," Sirius Black whispered to himself. Finally, a chance to leave the dreary prison of Number 12 Grimauld Place, finally an assignment, finally, a chance to make a difference! A chance to do _something!_

To have been locked up and useless had hurt him beyond anyone's wildest dreams; to sit safely on the sidelines while others risked their lives for a higher cause…It was beyond irony that the place he had tried so hard to disassociate himself with for the majority of his life had become the one place that all those around him wished him to stay.

He looked in contempt at the portrait of his mother as he donned an invisibility cloak and slipped silently out the door…

* * *

He was a little bitter about the particular reason _why _he, and none of the others had been called to take care of this particular matter. A Death Eater had recently been killed during a confrontation by some of the members of the Order of the Phoenix. Snape, who to Sirius' dismay was the man who told him of his new mission, was rather vague on details.

In any case, the Death Eater had an ancient mansion in his name and no non-fugitive relatives alive. The Order had to be sure the house was safe, confiscate any Dark objects, remove any curses, etc. And, as Snape had so pointedly reminded him, Sirius had had_ such _experience in matters concerning housekeeping that he should be delegated this task, leaving time for more important assignments to members of the Order who were actually _useful_.

Snape, of course, was referring to the extensive purge of his old house that Sirius had conducted with Molly Weasley and some of the kids, including his godson. They had thrown out, de-charmed, and destroyed most of the Dark contents of his hated house; and apparently this made him an expert in the field of de-cursing household Dark objects…or as Snape put it…housekeeping.

* * *

Sirius hitched a ride to his destination on the back of some sort of strange Muggle vehicle, a "pick-up truck" he'd heard someone call it once, though what exactly it picked up was a mystery to him. Snape had offered him the address via the Flo Network, but, as Sirius reminded him, it was never wise to Flo to a strange fireplace, alone, without back-up, in the middle of a most-likely haunted mansion formerly belonging to a deranged Death Eater. Besides, Sirius would always try his best not to take anything more from Snape than what was necessary.

Located far away from any prying Muggle eyes, Sirius had to walk on foot the last 12 miles (as a dog, of course). The outside of the mansion was just as dark and foreboding as one would expect it. The decrepit grey mansion itself stood on a hill, a silhouette against the horizon. The yard was over-grown with a variety of defensive spells protecting against entrance. Fortunately they didn't much affect Sirius as a dog, and he could easily disable them once he was inside. Scattered among the weeds and mud he found strange discarded objects, litter really.

He walked cautiously towards the main entrance to the house, not knowing exactly what to expect. He stood on the porch for a minute, before rolling his eyes at his own caution, _I'm turning into Molly Weasley, _he berated himself, before gingerly taking the doorknob in his hand and turning…

Nothing happened. _Strange, I would have expected more_, Sirius thought to himself, his wand at the ready, before continuing, _who am I kidding? I _wanted_ more. _The inside of the house was huge. Three separate stairways lead up to the second floor landing, and additional corridors seemed to pop up behind every door. However, those halls never seemed to lead anywhere, he would always end up where he started, and disoriented. _Meant to confuse intruders_, he supposed.

* * *

Hours of exploring the God-forsaken house had gotten him nothing except a foul mood. He wondered whether this was truly an assignment, or something Snape had just made up. The house was freakin' EMPTY! Not once, in three hours, had Sirius found anything more interesting than an empty dresser and dirty plates. Whoever owned this place had considered the possibility of defeat, and had acted accordingly. All incriminating objects, all useful information, EVERYTHING, had already been either moved or destroyed, There was nothing.

Moodily, Sirius clunked back down the stairs to ground-level. He searched again and found nothing. The living room had an old fire place with what looked like jagged nails sticking up at its base. _Glad I didn't come by Flo_, Sirius smiled slightly. All he found in the kitchen were empty cupboards and a broken refrigerator. A broken _Muggle _refrigerator. Sirius walked closer. Any Muggle born would have seen it as common and insignificant as a chair or table, but to Sirius it stuck out like a sore thumb. No Death Eater would have such a device in their home, Muggle technology was nothing if not insulting and crude.

He approached cautiously, extending his hand to open the door. Inside was dark, but he could immediately tell that it led somewhere, a passageway or a basement, a dungeon of some kind. This was big. He could practically feel Dark Art swimming off the walls. He knew procedure. He should definitely call for back-up and wait. _Definitely_, he thought grinningly, before plunging into the darkness alone.

* * *

The dark tunnel he had entered reminded him desperately of the Catacombs he'd visited in Paris as a boy. Important to see and understand death, his parents had thought. He shuddered. The floor was earthen, the walls stone with barred rooms every once in awhile. Most cells were empty, but some had obviously not yet been emptied. Ancient books of Dark Art, lists of names, family crests, dead beasts and Dark potions were only some of what remained. _It would take weeks for the Ministry to catalog all this,_ he thought, but suddenly froze. He thought he'd heard something, and looked around him, his heart racing. Yes, he was sure that all the dead beasts around him were actually dead, which left something entirely unknown, some creature whose lair he had possible just intruded on.

_**I'd seen the light. I saw it the moment the strange had grown curious enough about the Muggle device. He should have left it alone, I thought, sneering. But he hadn't. He came, and kept coming, all alone. At first I was sure it was Master, coming for the rest of his Dark objects, coming for me. But no, I hadn't seen him for days now. But this man, he gingerly looked around the death caves, not aware he was being watched. Not aware I was there, or how impossibly desperate I had grown. This man, I assured myself, was my one chance. **_


	2. Chapter 2: Discovery

Sirius felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickling, adrenaline rushed through his body as he approached the end of the tunnel, the last cell, which reminded him so terribly of Azkaban. He walked, thinking perhaps it had been his imagination when **CRASH **

The bars of the last cell had been kicked down from within, clattering on the tunnel floor. He coughed once from the rising dust when he saw something running straight towards him, "Stupefy!" he yelled, figuring it was better to stun first and ask questions later. Besides, he didn't mind hurting anything that made its home in a place like this. But the small, dark figure kept running, straight towards him –past him! "STUPEFY!" he screamed – he was sure he had hit it this time, but it kept running. Swearing, he ran after it, pulling it back before it escaped the dark tunnels.

_**The man had me! I was so close to escape, so close, but he pulled me back, sending me flying back towards the ground! I let out a roar of agony and anger, he had stopped me! I NEEDED TO GET OUT! He waved his wand at me yet again, saying incantations, trying to stop me, trying to make me sleep, but it didn't work of course, it never works…**_

By now, Sirius had realized that the creature was in fact, human. Or at least human in appearance, but he had his doubts considering that, for such a small creature it was putting up quite a fight. The wand was promptly kicked out of his hand, not that it seemed to be doing him any good. He felt a fist collide with his jaw, which really pissed him off. With all his might, he threw the person off him, but it twisted in the air, landing neatly on its feet in a crouched position! It tried to run past him once again, but Sirius had had enough. He stuck out his fist, and when the figure went to dodge under it, he extended his leg, tripping it, causing it to fall most ungracefully. Before the figure could leap up again, Sirius had jumped on it, pinning it to the ground. Small as it was, Sirius's weight was too much for it to hope to struggle against. Sirius smiled in relief. Reaching for his wand, and still holding his captive down, he sent a message for reinforcements. ****


	3. Chapter 3: A different Kind of Wierd

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related characters, products, etc. are the property of JK Rowling. I own nothing._

**Chapter Two: A different Kind of Wierd**

Remus Lupin was annoyed. He was annoyed that Snape had told Sirius of his mission, but had_ not_ told him to wait for Lupin, his partner on the mission, he was annoyed that his friend had been reckless enough to proceed alone, he was annoyed that he had been hit by a mild hex upon entry to the houses' yard, causing him to lose consciousness for five minutes and wake up with his face painted red, and he was really annoyed that he had stepped in some kind of droppings on his way up to the house. He was also mildly concerned when the mirror he carried for the Order started flickering, telling him that Sirius needed back-up. He ran into the house, the kitchen, the fridge, and finally the tunnels where Sirius told him to go. He swung open the door, wand poised when he saw –"Sirius?"

"Yes, Remus?" Sirius was on top of a figure, a young boy, it appeared, pinning him down.

"Wha….what are you doing?"

"Holding down a prisoner, my friend. Obviously. What are you doing?"

"Why…why don't you just tie him up?" Remus asked, now aware of the many ropes lying around the two.

"I've tried. The ones I conjure won't tie themselves around _her, _they fly straight at her and then collapse when they get within half a meter of her. I can tie the conjured ones around her myself, but…well, she just keeps untying them. I never really tie people up the Muggle way, you know…So this is easier." He gestured to his position.

"Why doesn't the rope spell work? It should…"

"I don't know, really. None of the others worked either. Not 'stupefy' not _anything_." He let the girl up and demonstrated. She rolled her eyes in contempt, but knew better than to try and run again. The sparks from the wand faded away before they got within half a meter of her, a kind of misty shield appearing around her.

"Strange," Lupin murmered.


	4. Chapter 4: COnversations

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of it's characters, plots, or anything else; they all belong to J.K. Rowling. Please don't sue. No money exchanged hands for this story, it was written for entertainment purposes only. _

**Four: Conversations**

"Is she asleep?" Dumbledore asked. He, Lupin and Black were standing a few feet away from a cot bearing a small female figure. They were in the Hogwarts infirmary; the midday sun basking the room with warm, yet eerie white light.

"Asleep? Uh, —Well, yes, I suppose so…" Sirius began.

Lupin looked up sharply at his friend, "Unconscious, more like…" he smirked slightly before continuing, "Sirius knocked her out."

Sirius looked shocked, "Knocked her out! I did nothing of the sort. I couldn't very well have helped that she was twisting around like that –"

Lupin began to laugh, "Look Remus," Sirius continued, "she hit her own head on that wall, I had nothing to do with it!... Except, you know, I mean I did slip her the Sleeping Potion after she was out…"

Dumbledore cleared his throat, "All ethical ambivalence aside, what, exactly, do we know of the girl?"

Lupin decided it would be best for him to answer, as Sirius Black still looked mildly offended at the jest concerning the unconscious young woman lying before them. "We found her in a Death Eaters house, either forgotten, or more likely, not yet moved to the location that everything else was taken to. It's strange—magic wouldn't work on her, not charms, hexes, curses, nothing…"

Dumbledore interrupted "You tried a curse on her?" Sirius shrugged, unabashed, and answered for his friend, "Didn't work. But the potion did, for some reason, as you can see." He gestured to the girl's sleeping form. "From what we were able to gather, the Death Eaters were just as curious as to the girl's response to magic—or lack thereof, I should say. She was conscious long enough to tell us that they were doing some kind of experimentation on her –you understand, defense against another's magic could mean practical invincibility for Voldemort and his followers…"

Dumbledore waited for Sirius to continue, but Lupin interrupted, "And that's it, isn't it? You see, after a few minutes talking, answering our questions, she started perking up a little, asking questions of her own, getting a little worked up…"

Dumbledore nodded, knowingly, "Understandable for one who has been kidnapped and forcibly detained by servants of great evil."

"Yes," Lupin agreed, "And we couldn't really answer because a mind charm was out of the obvious to make her forget about everything, and she grew a little…displeased about our silence, a little –violent. Anyway, that was when Sirius got her to drink the Sleeping draught.

"I see." Dumbledore took a moment to take this all in. "And you have contacted the Ministry, my dear Lupin?"

"Yes, they agree that Hogwarts is the safest place for her. Or rather, they believe that it is the best chance of keeping her away from the Death Eaters, which could endanger Wizards; her safety seemed to be a secondary concern," he sniffed.

A muffled sound echoed from the bed before them, and they all directed their attention to the figure; she was waking.

"Good day," Dumbledore greeted her unnecessarily cheerfully, "how are you feeling?"

The girl in the bed looked stunned and groggy for a moment, before stiffly flexing her hands, limbs, and jaw, "I ---I feel like someone's jammed half a dozen rotten eggs into my cranium before force-feeding me all their sorry rotten relatives…"

The others in the room either did not hear this unique if not specific answer, but continued on in reassuring voices, although she did not continue responding.

"Who are you?"

"_What_ are you?"

"Where are you from?"

"Can you walk?"

"Can you tell us your name, child?"

This annoyed her slightly; what did they think she was stupid? Of course she _could_ tell them her name; it was just a matter of _would_ she! And before she could stop herself, she broke her silence to retort, "Of course I know my own name, you twits, it's –" And here the girl paused for the longest second of her life, one that seemed to span all measure of time and place – _what was her name? _

She could remember things: what an apple is, the numerical value of Pi to the twentieth decimal, the taste of chocolate cake, the itch of grass on bare skin, the names of constellations, of animals, of objects and theories….but what was _HER_ name? And why couldn't she remember?

Determined to prove her point and not let the strange men around her that she might have any weaknesses, she glanced around the room, her eyes landing on the dying fire in a near-by hearth, "Ember," she blurted out, "Ember Cherrywood," she named the composition of the near-by wood stack.

The others seemed satisfied with her response for the moment, and meandered off to let her sleep. But the girl was now wide awake. It didn't seem these people were the same as those who had hurt her. They didn't seem bad. Eccentric, perhaps, but not bad.

But what about her? Why was the memory of her name gone? She dreaded probing deeper into her own thoughts, but eventually she tried to remember. And she couldn't. Not anything. Nothing at all that would distinguish her from any other human being in the wide world; not names, faces, events, people, or feelings.

She knew facts and ideas…and nothing more. She glared at the closed door, scared, angry, and frightened: who was she?


	5. Chapter 5: Fallen

_Disclaimer: I do not own any Harry Potter characters, plots, or anything else; they all belong to J.K. Rowling. Please don't sue. No money exchanged hands for this story, it was written for entertainment purposes only. _

**Five: Fallen**

She closed her eyes and lay back in the hospital cot, thinking, for a very long while. Activity buzzed around her for the next few days; but she was left alone in her bed to "recuperate."

However she felt well enough, and was almost certain that they were just keeping her in the bed until they could think of what to do with her. And as much as she hated sitting back while others decided her fate, she wasn't exactly in any condition to protest. What would she say? Demand that they return her home to….?

Besides, the less protest on her part, the fewer questions asked of her. So she sat back and observed the activity around her, silently. She did remember enough to know that what she was seeing was wrong. She was quite certain that owls were not supposed to deliver mail, brooms did not fly, and cats didn't spy. However, the point of insanity did not seem like a wise topic to broach. Instead, she waited.

* * *

It was dark one night, like any other. She alone was awake, restless, listening to the distant tick-tock of a clock. Tick-tock-tick-tock-tick-tock-_CLUNK. _She jumped; what was that? Slowly, quietly, she crept out of bed. It was about time she went exploring anyhow.

She walked to the wide open doors which creaked when she pushed them open. Waiting for her eyes to adjust to the piercing blackness, she began to discern a figure in the night, standing on the platform that overlooked the giant clock.

"My dear, I'm so glad you've come."

"Who are you?"

"Oh, never mind that, deary, you just keep quiet, never mind that…"

"_Who are you?" _The man glared briefly, before his face returned to a false grin.

"I'm from the Ministry dear, the Ministry of Magic. But of course you wouldn't know about that would, oh no."

"What do you wa—"

"Well, you see my dear –"

"Stop calling me that,"

"You see, there are many who will try desperately to get their hands on you, many who would kill to get you, so valuable, such an anomaly. And we all agreed that Hogwarts was the place to keep you," he gestured widely, "but there are some wise ones who see that more extreme methods are necessary in this instance. And…well, Time Travel is so frowned upon, such a messy, tricky business really, but necessary, we believe, in this instance." The girl looked at the man in a kind of sickened awe. What the hell was he talking about? He took a step closer.

"And naturally, you know, this all must be done in secret, the others mustn't know until it is too late. And the timeline is safe, we've decided, for what can one small Muggle girl do?" He chocked on a half-hearted laugh before continuing, "this is all very new, you know, no one has ever gone this far back, not that we know of, and you should be safe in the pat, isn't that so? Because it's already happened, right? And if it doesn't work…if you die…well, then problem solved, hmm? Better dead than in the hands of the Deatheaters….better for us anyway, perhaps not yourself…anyway, you won't be completely clueless, not really, not to worry, my dear," and in the darkness he grabbed her and forced a burning liquid down her throat before throwing a necklace around her, and shoving her over the railing of the stairs.


	6. Chapter 6: Giant Squid and Magic Sticks

_Disclaimer: I do not own any Harry Potter characters, plots, or anything else; they all belong to J.K. Rowling. Please don't sue. No money exchanged hands for this story, it was written for entertainment purposes only. _

_A/N: Hi people, sorry it's been so long for the update. I wasn't even sure if I was going to continue the fic, and I'm still not. I don't know if it's any good, nor where the plot should go. Any comments, reviews, or suggestions would be really helpful :)_

_Beautifulfirestone: My first review! Thanks, I hope these chapters were o__k._

_Katemary: Yeah, length is always one of my biggest problems, I have absolutely no concept of how long something is going to be. But on this one I wasn't sure if I was going to continue, or where the story was going. I think these last chapters were a little longer though, (I hope at least,) I'll work on that, thanks! _

**Six: Giant squid and Magic sticks**

She winced and drew her arms over her head in anticipation of the impact from the fall she knew would kill her, but it never came. Or rather, it came belated.

First she felt a great swirl of energy around her, as if she had been tossed into a whirl pool rather than nothingness, the air sucked out of her lungs, pressure on her head. And then came the fall. Flat on her chest, she hit the ground and immediately bolted upright,heaved, andpromptly threw up. But the floor was soft, and fragrant!

She looked around; no more was the dark silence of the hospital wing, it had been replaced by a bright, dense forest. She stood, shaking. She hoped this wasn't death, hoped it wasn't heaven. She would have liked wings. And she certainly hoped it wasn't the other place...

She shook her head, trying to snap herself out of her little death spiel…she didn't feel dead, not that she'd know what they would feel like.

She tried to take in her surroundings. She had emerged from the forest, and was now standing by the edge of the lake.**_I wonder where the giant squid is_** she mused to herself. _Wait, what? Squid? Why am I talking about squid? _She continued walking. _**The forbidden Forest. Hogwarts castle. Hagrid's hut in the distance**._ Names, strange, foreign and mystical sounding names and places were popping up randomly in her head!

She was so distracted by this that she didn't hear the footsteps close in behind her until an arm slinked up beside her. She spun around to see a cold, haughty looking young man standing before her.

He spoke; "Young girl walking all by herself in the forbidden woods? Not so wise…you don't even have your wand on you…For all you know, I could be dangerous."

The boy was tall lean, with penetrating, icy blue eyes that searched her, and sleek blond hair. He could have been handsome if not for the harsh, focused expression on his face, looking at her as if she were prey. Hecontinued walking forward until she realized that he had backed her into the darkened woods. She froze. She was not going back in there alone with this boy.

He frowned. "Now, now, be nice. If you don't go with all the other boys and girls to Hogsmeade, you must be lonely. Don't you want to play?"

He put his hand on her shoulder. He was so much bigger than she was! Her petite figure was surely no match, and he had a wand, like the ones the people in the hospitalhad carried…**_the wizards and witches_**, said the voice, as if that were important now.

His other hand started slinking, lower, harder….but something in the girl clicked, suddenly and violently.She jerked, twisting around in his grasp and grabbed his other arm. She elbowed him in the stomach making him keel over before flipping him over her shoulder, leaving him spiraled out on the ground, breathing sharply.

His eyes followed her, "You little—" He jumped up, reaching for his wand, but she kicked it outs of his hand before smashing her own upwards, cleanly breaking his nose. Grabbing his wand, she didn't even look back before running.

* * *

She kept running for at least five minutes, before slowing down. She was still around the perimeter of the lake, and she paused. Had he followed her?

She listened. Nothing. Wait, there—footsteps! They were close! She whirled around, wand held aloft and arms in a defensive position. She briefly wondered how she knew this defense, but the thought went quickly out of her head. Operating on pure adrenaline and anger, she didn't much care.

Just before striking her pursuer, she realized that it was not in fact, the boy from before. It was someone else entirely. Three someones, actually.

"Whoa, easy there!" One of the boys chasing after her quickly halted, his hands flying upwards in gesture of peace, "We're not trying to hurt you." He was strong looking, with flying dark brown hair, contemplative eyes, and a grin on his face.

"Yeah, we only wanted to talk to you –you know, after that shit you pulled on Malfoy, who wouldn't want to congratulate you?" said the second boy. Ember frowned at the name**_. Malfoy. Deatheater. Hate, bad, we hate him, he kills…_**

This second speaker was a stocky boy with unruly black hair and brown eyes. She noticed he stood protectively close to his friend. In the distance, she could see another boy walking calmly towards the, sandy blond and a calm demeanor, and a fourth, trying to run and catch up to his friends, but panting heavily and failing. She shook herself out of her tangent again, focusing on the boys at hand.

"Who are you?" Ember demanded, annoyed and still shocked and slightly intimidated and edgy.

"Calm down, we're friends, okay?" The dark-haired boy spoke, " My name is Sirius," **_Sirius? Met him, helped you, but dead now, veil of death, ministry_**,

"And these are my friends, James," **_dead, so sad, tragic, murder_**, he gestured to the boy next to him, "Remus," **_monster!_** He patted the blond on the shoulder as he walked up, "and Peter," he pointed off in the distance to the pudgy boy still running towards them all. A rush of hatred swelled in the pit of the girl's stomach, though she didn't know why.**_ Betrayer, betrayer, betrayer!_** The words echoed inside her head and she squinted in contempt. She tried to ignore the words that seemed to take a form of their own within her head.

She stumbled backwards slightly, overwhelmed by the strange voice in her head. At first she had been hopeful, thinking, perhaps, that it was her memory coming back, maybe she had been a student here at Hogwarts. But the realization was beginning to dawn: she couldn't have been, she wasn't magical.

She gaffed at the thought: magic! She wouldn't have believed it, except for the strange sights she had seen. _But what about the voice? _Well, she was talking about wizards and witches and magic and time-travel, it seemed plausible that she gone insane.

Wait, time travel? The Ministry man had mentioned that! Perhaps that could explain everything. The liquid he'd shoved down her throat! Was that a…what was the word….**_potion?_**

Contemplative, she gazed back at her current situation. The boy with the messy hair had offered her his hand. She followed a whim of trust, and took it, still fiercely meeting his eyes.

She then looked at the useless wand in her other hand, and figuring that it seemed unlikely that all four of them would try to jump her (Peter had since rejoined the group), and that even if they did, hitting them with the wand would likely make little difference…She brought the wand down, grasped in both hands, and rammed her knee up, snapping it in two. Sneering, she threw it contemptuously into the lake before turning her back on the boys and heading towards the castle, which now seemed eerily familiar to her.

* * *

A/N: Okay, was that confusing? I'll try to clarify:

The words like _this are meant to be the speaker's own thoughts. Right now, that's Ember, but in chapters 1 and 2 it was Remus, Sirius, and Ember, so that could change._

**_The words like this are meant to be this new, unknown voice/memory/knowledge-giver that is currently and bewilderingly popping up in Ember's head as she takes in her surroundings._**

And lastly, the voices comments, such as calling Lupin a "monster" because he is a werewolf. Anyone who read the Harry Potter books is supposed to see that such biased and ignorant judgements are discriminatory and morally inept. But I figure that since these perceptions came from a part of the Ministry that was willing to experimentally send a girl to an unknown fate, that they are from a more proactive and conservative and perhapsmore militaristic faction. So it would perhaps be biased against werewolves, but still know the truth about Black's innocence, Pettigrew's betrayal, and of course, Jame's Potter's death. So Ember gets vague, sometime's biased or opposing views on people and things (maybe the voice is coming from more than one person, we don't know yet) But ultimately it is up to her to decide about how she feels about people, if they're trustworthy, and how to interpret any of the given information.

Perhaps thatexplainationjust made it all even more confusing and annoying. If so, by all means, ignore and just read the story and interpret it how you will.


	7. Settling in and Settling Scores

**Getting Settled, Settling Vegeance**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the series characters or anything, I own NOTHING. Those rights go to JK Rowling and such._

_Hey, sorry i haven't updated for awhile. I wasn't sure i was going to continue, I'm still not. I don't really know where its going or if even I find it interesting. Plus I'm moving in 4 days, and all sorts of stressful stuff like that. ANy ideas or suggestions would be great, like -- should i even bother trying to make this fic end/ make sense? SUggestions? ANyone? ANything? At all?_

* * *

Ember was quite surprised at the lack of students as she marched determinedly through the entrance of the castle. _They must all be at that Hogsmeade place_, she thought bitterly. She had now been grabbed, forced-feed, shoved over a railing, fallen, been disgustingly hit on and attacked, and then stalked, all within the last hour. She was not a happy camper. She noticed nothing of the brightness of the day or the cool breeze, but rather marched determinedly down the halls without looking left or right. She didn't actually _know _where she was going, but somehow, she had great faith that she would get there. Down a winding staircase, around the corner, through a magnificent, towering door, she found herself in a great hall. **_The Great Hall_**, the voice corrected.She rolled her eyes and walked down the long rows of empty tables. The ceiling was as beautiful as anything she had ever seen; like a midday sky with sunlight and falling blossoms. The room was quite empty, she was sure—but wait—No! There, sitting at the end of one of the raised tables! It was a man, frail, one might think at first because of his age. One would be sorely mistaken upon closer examination though, as power and confidence, but also lightheartedness radiated from his being. He wore purple robes with gold embroidery….and she had seen him before. The man from the infirmary. 

He rose as she approached him, spreading his arms out wide.

"So you are the enigma!" He stated rather jollily.

"Um…Excuse me?"  
"The enigma. I knew that something was wrong, of course, one can be quite attune to this sort of thing, you know. So I decided to have a drink and wait for fate to find me. Biscuit?" He offered her a platter. She took one, "Thanks."

"Yet, my dear, I still must ask you who you are, and, more importantly, how you came about to find yourself in my school?"

There was a long silence before she explained the limited amount of knowledge she held, leaving out details such as the apparent amnesia, lack of magical-ness, and the strange voice in her head.

Dumbledore cocked his head at a strange angle when she finished. Fortunately for her, he had not asked her very many questions about herself once he had satisfied that she was, indeed, from the future. But he was not content with some aspect of her story, or he wouldn't have been looking at her like that. He began, "But you leave out…that you are a Muggle?"

Silence.

"Oh yeah. That."

He nodded, "That was part of the problem, wasn't it? They thought a Muggle could not handle such a gift –or curse, as a deflecting shield, and had hoped very much that you would die in your abnormally long trip through time."

"…I suppose."

Silence again.

"Well," Dumbledore clapped his hands together in an inappropriately peppy manner for such a somber development, "it seems as if you'll be staying for awhile! Follow me."

And with this, he was up with his robes fluttering about his ankles, leaving the girl trailing behind him.

"…And so she will be our guest, until such a time that….well, such a time that something happens to change…something. The situation is a bit vague, but we'll get used to it." Dumbledore grinned as if this were all a wonderful new adventure. His staff just sat in slightly disturbed awe, transfixed on the slight girl in front of them. The majority of Dumbledore's teaching staff had congregated within the teachers' chambers. They were gazing at the figure of the girl –well, young woman before them. She was practically smothered by the plush pillows of the couch upon which she sat, but even so, her discomfort was apparent. She had long, knotted dark hair, and was wearing what appeared to be rags over a hospital gown. Even so, her figure was apparent, yet she did seem in need of several hot meals and a bath. Weeks of hospital sponge baths could do that to you. As Dumbledore finished his announcement, questions began to come,

"How far, exactly, did she travel from the future?"

"A _Muggle_? An actual Muggle? But how?"

"That doesn't make sense, how could magic not work on her? It's unheard of, preposterous!"

"How will we ever explain the presence of a Muggle in our facility?"

Ember had zoned out for most of Dumbledore's speech, but now she was growing a little annoyed. In fact, all the annoyances of the past few hours, days, weeks, were now amounting to this. She took a deep breath, "IAM A _MUGGLE_, NOT _DEAF_! I AM SITTING RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU, AND YES, I WOULD APPRECIATE IT IF YOUR SLIGHTLY BELITTLING COMMENTS WERE ADDRESSED TO _ME!" _She paused, but Dumbledore interrupted, "We are all adults here. I'm sure we will be able to find a suitable explanation for Miss Cherrywood's appearance." Ember winced at the name, wishing she had been a little bit more clever when she was asked to provide one. In any case, Dumbledore continued, "She is a recent graduate from a prestigious school in…elsewhere. She needs practical experience in teaching, her chosen future occupation, and cannot very well teach her former peers in her old school. So she was sent here, to learn from the best. She will be an aide to various teachers and perform other such tasks." Ember looked straight into his eyes. Though his tone of voice was pleasant and calm, she could see that this was no mere suggestion" This was an order. Though she was in the past now, she no less a potential threat than she had been thirty years from now.

* * *

Ember was quite ambivalent in regards to her new situation. On the one hand, she was quite grateful that they had not decided to simply kill her. But on the other hand, she did not like being distrusted. She did not like being different. She did not like being thought of as weak because she was non-magic. And she did not like being locked up. She was in the castle 24/7, under the persistently watchful eyes of the staff. She was trying with all her will-power to ignore the warning voice in her head, and to avoid making any real relationships among the people she met: she knew how too many of them would die, how, why, when. Desensitized, she did not even realize how distant she was to th elife around her; always an outsider.

She did, however, find slight relief in the classes. Though certainly detested by the Slytherin teachers, the student population had no idea of her Muggleness and she often proved to liven up class to some degree. Even Professor Binn's lectures grew interesting as the class couldn't help but watch the young woman sitting at a desk in the back, Binn's facing away from her. She was juggling wadded up balls of paper. Clumisily at first, she grew better at it each day, finally managing to get 14 wads up in the air at once. All the while, the class pondered if she even knew she had a following, as she had never once acknowledged them as they watched her juggling attempts.

All of the Mauraders appreciated the diversion from studies, but Sirius in particular was captivated by the girl. She changed as the classes did; indifferent in Binns', hardworking in McGonagals', sarcastic and witty in the Slytherin Potion class, where she was most unappreciated by the teacher, Professor Donis. She was small, dark: piercing eyes, purple-black hair, and high-arching eyebrows. She dressed in dark colors, as if in hopes of blending in, though she never could. But more than that, she held herself…differently than other girls. _Strong_, thought Sirius, like she knew something no one else did, like she could take anything thrown at her_. I will have to test that theory_, he grinned.

* * *

Dumbledore watched as the darkened figure emerged from behind the door. _The shadow is growing_, the voice warned. _Times are dark._ _In these troubled days, love, is needed most of all. But that can never be taught. The shadow is growing. The threat is imminent. Resources must be pooled, advantages must be taken: This shadow must come to pass._

* * *

Ember was shocked at Dumbledore's request. It was true that she did not value being a teacher's aide. She could seldom help student's in these subjects as she had never before known of their existence, and with her increasingly apparent ignorance in such matters, she was afraid that she would be spotted for what she was: A Muggle. Or so they thought. 

Rumors had traveled around school about her being Squib. She had tried to deny it, but some interests were peaked, Malfoy's especially. He still wanted her, or his revenge. Or, preferably, both. He saw his opportunity in Potions: the teacher, bearing an ever present disgust at the "wall decoration" AKA Ember, had assigned her to test the student's potion's by taste. Ember dare not directly disobey the loathsome Donis for fear he would reveal her to the students and eventually, the entire wizarding world, which would put everyone at risk. But Donis wasn't truly trying to make her die, just perhaps cause her pain or fright. He really didn't care. But Malfoy was exhilarated, and dumped something additional into his own cauldron before grinning as she drank of it.

The love potion, with which he had hoped to humilate/take advantage of her with, did not act as he had expected. Yes, she instantly felt attracted to him, but then her speech slurred, her eyes glowed orange, she radiated heat until she collapsed on the cold, stone floor of the dungeons.

And there she lay for hours, for know wizard magic could heal heal: she resisted each spell, only being affected by other potions, whcih should not be mixed. And when she awkoe, eyes stined reddish-orange, she hunted Malfoy for three days straight. But it was a big castle, and he was a kniving little git, and managed to stay away from her.

So she was doubly surprised that Dumbledore trusted her enough to make her this offer. He wanted her to teach. WHat's more, he felt that in darkened times, a subject at which she excelled at would be appropriate: self-defense and personal combat. Muggle style. The strange martial art of which she mysteriously knew so much about would be introduced. _And_, she pondered, _perhaps change history._


End file.
